


What might have been - Suikoden I

by suikomaniac (anonamor)



Series: What Might Have Been [1]
Category: Suikoden I
Genre: Ficlets, Gen, only tagging the characters that are part of the conversation pair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:19:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonamor/pseuds/suikomaniac
Summary: An attempt to explore possible connections between two characters via possible situations/conversations. This one will just have Suikoden I characters.





	1. #7 & #45 - Kwanda & Alen

**Author's Note:**

> I'm fixing up some fanfic I wrote back in 2008-2010 under the LJ account darklucia and hopefully improving them a bit :D Hopefully after the first two chapters that are revised ficlets I will be able to continue and make new ones!

Two men sit at the bar with mugs of beer cradled in large, calloused hands and lifted towards chapped lips. The younger man's eyes flit between the foamy amber-colored beer and the face of his older companion, whose weary eyes are half-open and unfocused. The younger man brushes strands of his long, black bangs away from his eyes as he waits for his older companion to continue speaking.

The older man has one hand firmly around his beer mug and the other hand curled into a tight fist. He doesn’t remember what he was saying before he decided he needed to drink more beer. The younger man in front of him still had bright eyes, despite 10+ years of service in the army already. The older man sighs. "You know," he says, "Teo McDohl, he didn’t seem that different from me, at first. I wouldn't say he was more loyal than I was, or that I was any less against this army than he was. He was, maybe, more stubborn than I was."

The older man takes a long sip of his beer before setting it back down loudly onto the table. His mug is mostly empty while the younger man's is mostly full. "When you have surrendered to the enemy commander, you are expected to ask for your own execution,” the older man continues. The younger man nods, showing he is listening. “Of course I also wanted to die that day. It would have been the easiest way to accept my fate. Young McDohl had other ideas." The older man chuckles but doesn't smile. "It wasn't just the influence of that rune. I didn't want to realize that Emperor Barbarossa had ordered me to hurt our people. I realized that I did something wrong, but I was loyal to the man. I would die for him."

The older man uncurls his fist and places it flat onto the table. The younger man puts his free hand on top of it. The older man resumes talking. "Teo was fortunate. Fate blessed him with such a wonderful son." The edges of his lips curl upwards slightly, betraying a small smile. A moment of silence passes, and suddenly the murmur of conversation from the other bar patrons is audible again. The older man withdraws his hand and downs the last of his beer. He stands up. "I wish you the best, Alen."

The younger man nods. "Thank you, General Kwanda." The older man, however, is already gone. The younger man slowly finishes his beer, taking it in small sips. It is a while later when he makes his own exit, leaving the rowdy place for the comforts of the cool, quiet hallway.


	2. #9 & #45 - Gremio & Alen

It was a little past sunset when Gremio heard someone knock on the front door of the McDohl household. Young Master was upstairs in his room and Lord McDohl would never need to knock to enter his own house, so it must be a visitor. Gremio debated in which matter he should open the door, but before he was even out of the kitchen the door opened quietly. Gremio froze.

"Gremio?" the man called out.

Gremio exhaled in relief. He recognized the voice. It was Alen, Lord McDohl's assistant. "Yes, what is it?" Gremio asked loudly before quickly making his way to the entrance of the McDohl manor.

"Lord McDohl is too busy to return tonight," Alen relayed.

Gremio sighed. "Young Master will be upset," Gremio muttered to himself. Then to Alen he asked, "Does Lord McDohl require anything?"

"No,” Alen replied, shaking his head. “Only that his son does not stay up waiting for him."

Gremio was about to reply, but he was suddenly jerked back by a tug on his cape. He turned around and saw the Young Master pouting. Perhaps Young Master had heard the door open and had come downstairs. The boy had managed to do so without a sound.

Alen kneeled so he could look at the young boy eye to eye. "Your Father is a very busy man. He'll come home tomorrow, I promise," he said.

The young boy just gave Alen a long silent stare. Gremio, shaking his head, bent down to scoop the young boy up.

"Now don't be rude," he scolded gently. With the young boy securely in his arms, he turned to Alen. "I wish you and Lord McDohl a good night. Please take care of yourselves."

Alen nodded. "Good night to you as well." With that the young man left and shut the door securely behind him. Meanwhile Gremio brought the Young Master up to his room.

"Young Master..." He sighed. "I also wish your Father would come home earlier. But I am sure he would be here if he could be. He loves you very much."

Gremio ruffled the boy's hair and tucked him into bed. Young Master stayed restless, though, until Gremio sang him a lullaby. Once the boy was safely asleep, he turned off the candles and went to his own room. He also loved the boy, but the boy didn't need to hear that tonight.


	3. #44 & #101 - Grenseal & Marie

Marie had seen Grenseal around, wearing a rather blank expression on his face but still obviously grieving. He still acted politely but his voice was a bit cold, a bit wary. He seemed reluctant to talk to anyone, not even his friend Alen. It made her heart hurt when she saw him, a young man who used to have a bright smile, or a small smirk as he pulled his hot-headed companion back from scolding the wayward soldiers too harshly, or a gentle smile as he apologized on behalf of the soldiers and paid their share of the alcohol and food bill.

She had asked Grenseal one time about why he kept paying for their damages when he himself had done nothing wrong. He told her not to worry, and informed her, with a sly smile, that it was coming out of their paychecks at the end of the month anyway. Thus it was rare for the same group of soldiers in their group to cause trouble twice in a row.

Now Marie wanted to reach out to the young man, but what should she say? What could she say? “Sorry for your loss?” Obviously she was sorry; no one was not sorry, least of all the person who defeated him. “Thank you for always being kind to me?” But did he want reminders of the days of past, when he was happily under General Teo’s employ?

“Excuse me.”

Marie’s head jerked back, jaw dropping a bit as she found herself addressed by the one person she had been thinking about. “How can I help you?”

“Can I have some extra blankets? I’ve been feeling a little cold lately at night.”

Marie nodded and turned away to retrieve said blankets. She had heard some rumors that perhaps the two young men under General Teo’s employ were maybe more than just friends. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t; it was nothing she cared to investigate or repeat to others. More important was that because Sarah had just laundered some blankets, they did indeed have extra blankets to spare. If these blankets were needed because the two young men no longer needed to share a bed, to share grief in privacy, then perhaps things were getting better.

“Here you go, dear,” Marie said with a smile as she handed the pile of blankets to Grenseal. “Take care.”

As she watched the young man leave, draped in freshly laundered blankets like a young boy who had left his bed reluctantly, she hoped he really did take care. She would like him to visit her inn in Gregminster again, someday, with that smile and laugh on his face… Someday, once the war was over…


End file.
